This Ain't a Love Song
by FantasticallyFanatical
Summary: Rachel/Jesse. Un-beta'd one-shot. 'And somehow Jesse finds himself sat on a bench, in a graveyard, with Rachel Berry's head on his lap as she lies curled up on the wood.' Even death comes with formalities which must be abided by regardless.


_A/N: I really cannot help myself – I've managed to churn out yet another St. Berry one shot (I'm a little worried that I'm going to write too much about these two!) This is lightly inspired by the Rent and Angel's funeral scene (which oddly really made me sob.) This idea just struck me and would not go away so here it is. Oh, and it starts, then goes back by twenty minutes (as you'll see) but then reverts back to "normal" time. But I think (and hope!) it's pretty straightforward to understand. Oh and the title is from the Scouting For Girls song of the same name. But anyway, let me know what you think! And read, review and enjoy :)_

**-StB-**

"Puck, will you move your stupid mohawk out my way." Mercedes grumbles as the five of them – Quinn, Puck, Kurt, Mercedes and Santana – peer through the squares of glass in the door. It's a squeeze, having all five trying to watch the drama unfold, but not one is about to give way to another.

"Dude, shut up. I'm trying to listen." Puck's attempting to mould his ear into the door to try and hear what's going on. Not only does he look ridiculous but it's also not enabling him to hear any better.

"Well, stop talking then. _Duh_." Santana's only here for the gossip and promptly shoves Puck to the side to get a better look.

"Shush, you guys. They're coming," Quinn hisses and the five of them disperse and act as if it's perfectly normal the five of them would be associating together in the corridor.

_20 minutes earlier._

"Mr Schue, there's someone at the door." Quinn informs Mr Schue who's too busy conversing with Finn to even notice. She sighs and mutters something inaudible under her breath and gets the door herself. "You, huh? This better be good."

The entire room goes silent save for Will's over enthusiastic laughter in response to a joke Finn's attempted to tell (he ends up saying the punch line before the joke and accidentally mixes up the nationality of the character.)

"Mr Schuester? May I borrow Rachel for a moment?" Mercedes makes a disapproving sound with her mouth and Kurt rolls his eyes so dramatically he almost loses his balance and accidentally uses Puck's thigh to steady himself. Puck looks a little alarmed and shifts further away from Kurt, who raises an eyebrow at Puck: Kurt would never get up on that. Finn pummels his fists because he thinks Jesse's here to steal his girl (only he's still got to realise that Rachel will never be anyone's girl. She's her own person and if they have any possible future together, he needs to learn that.)

"Rachel?" Rachel has, oddly, been the quietest of the lot and Will walks over to where she stands beside the piano. "You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"I know, Mr Schue." She's contemplating all her options and as she glances over at Jesse she doesn't see a smug smile or an ulterior motive. He's bland and expressionless and waits in silence for her response. She then glances to Finn, who shakes his head but that serves only to make Rachel more determined to see what Jesse wants.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Will's a teacher and a protector and father through and through and though Rachel's glad, she matured enough to know she's got to do this on her own.

"I'll be fine." Will watches as she walks out the room, Jesse turning silently on his heels to follow. Quinn crosses her arms across her chest – she doesn't trust Jesse – and shares a knowing glance with Mercedes. Finn stands up and throws his arms about in an air of despair. Will offers him a sympathetic look because Finn genuinely does have his heart in the right place; it's just pining over the wrong person.

"Rachel, I need to ask you a favour." He dives straight into the reason he came here: no pleasantries, no acknowledgements of the past, just a straightforward transaction. Rachel bites her tongue and awaits his continuation because there's so much she wants to say to him but so much of it is probably best left unsaid. He clears his throat and Rachel feels a little on edge as he begins to speak because without his smugness and his sarcasm and his adolescent arrogance, Jesse seems like half the boy he was before. "It's apparently a formality in my family to bring a date to a funeral."

He doesn't even ask her if she'd mind accompanying him: it's blunt and to the point and Rachel struggles a little to comprehend what he's asking.

"You want me to find you a date to a funeral?" Her brow furrows and Jesse almost – but not quite – cracks the tiniest smile. When he doesn't answer (because how can he?) the penny drops and Rachel realises why he's really here. "Wait, _I'm_ your date for the funeral?"

"You don't have to do anything," he assures her in a voice so bland and monotone that it's like she's never heard him speak before, like he's a different person altogether. "Just sit with me during the speeches, throw on the flowers. You don't even have to stay for the wake."

"Jesse, don't you think taking one of your friends would be a little bit more appropriate?" She's trying to be so mature about this entire fiasco and he notices that maturity kind of suits her. Even if she is wearing a pink polo shirt with denim shorts (with hearts sewn on the pockets.) But more than that he's grateful she's not torturing him more than he's already tortured himself about their past. She'll never know how hard it was for him to come back here and ask her because he knew the moment he won regionals, he'd be closing the door on her forever. That there'd be no way back for them, ever.

"None of them fit the bill," he informs her and Rachel imagines that it's his parents who want him to bring a well-groomed (if not a little high maintenance) girl and not one of the am-dram types he no doubt associates with at UCLA. "I don't make friends, Rachel. I make necessary acquaintances."

That sounds more like Jesse, Rachel decides, with his need for success and recognition of his own merit, not with the help of other people. She thought the same, a long time ago, but now more than ever she's realised friends are important. "And none of them could come?"

He looks at her face properly for the first time and she gets the message: he wouldn't be here if they could. She doesn't actually say she'll go but she assumes he can tell that she will without words.

"It's on Saturday, at four. I'll pick you up." And with that, Jesse walks out the room, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. He bypasses the group in the corridor and doesn't even twitch at the obscene phrases Puck calls after him. Rachel remains in the room for a little while longer, trying to process what on earth just happened, until she sighs and leaves too.

**-StB-**

"Honey, the door for you." Rachel tucks her hair behind both her ears and brushes non-existent lint off of her dress. She descends the stairs and places a kiss on either father's head before greeting Jesse at the door. His jaw clenches a little but he manages to manifest a smile and she returns one before shutting her door. They don't speak much in the car so Rachel stares out the window, letting the sun beam down on the glass beside her. If it were possible, Rachel would have said this was a nice day for a funeral.

He's the perfect gentleman when they arrive at the church, opening the door and offering his support to exit the car. She steals a look at his face, in the hope that this past year has been something of a dream, a mistake and that the same hand that's touching her now didn't crush an egg on her head. Jesse searches his pocket for a miniature white lily brooch which he delicately applies to the collar of her dress. She feels his laboured breath on her neck as he struggles to pin it gently and not stab her in the process. His hands are cold against the skin around her collar bones and she finds herself strangely wanting nothing more than to wrap her own hands around his and warm them to life. He fumbles a little with the pin and Rachel can tell from the increasing number of lines appearing on his forehead that Jesse's becoming more than a little aggravated: he's not used to not being able to do things right first time. She smiles ever so softly, her eyes blinking gently upwards to latch onto his as she takes her hands and places them on top of his. His fingers take a little while to register that she means for him to stop but eventually he lowers his arms to his side and watches as she expertly fastens the pin and then nods to let him know she's done.

They approach the church, side by side, and Jesse stalls momentarily as two figures stand at the door, greeting all the guests. Rachel eyes the other women entering the doors and feels very underdressed in comparison. Rachel gently lowers her arm in a subtle bid to hold his hand but before he realises what she's trying to do, his hands are tucked under each armpit and he begins the walk to the church door. And though Rachel knows it wasn't a personal rejection – he didn't even know she was trying to take his hand until it was too late and the moment was lost – she still feels like she's the girl everyone turns away from.

"Jesse, you brought a friend. How nice." The woman, with her clipped speech and pointed features, eyes Rachel up and down with a smile so false Rachel wants to laugh. But this is definitely not the time or the place and she's already painfully aware how awkward Jesse's finding everything that's happening. "Do go in."

"Well it was nice to meet you Mrs St. James." She bows her head to the woman, then to the man. "Mr St. James."

"Oh, we're not Jesse's parents, dear." Rachel's mouth falls into a perfectly framed oval and she looks to Jesse, who gives nothing away. Instead, he stalks inside and hushed whispers echo around the ornate church. Rachel follows helplessly behind him, unable to mistake how pleased the woman sounded to announce she was no relative of Jesse's. It almost made Rachel feel sorry for Jesse. Almost.

They sit together on the awfully cold wood and Rachel tries as hard as she possibly can to disguise the sound of her teeth chattering. They sit in silence as the final guests congregate and Rachel notices how big a turn out it is. As she cranes her neck to view the door at the back, she starts a little when she feels something touch her back: Jesse's draped his jacket around her bare shoulders but as she turns to thank him, he's facing forwards, a steely look damaging his youthful face. She opens her mouth to speak, but a voice overpowers her and then, once again, the moment's lost to the air.

"All rise," a deep voice booms throughout the church and reverberates off the walls. People struggle to get to their feet and Jesse silently offers his hand to aid Rachel getting to her feet. They're sat eight to a row and Rachel and Jesse have the unfortunate circumstance of sharing their row with some slightly larger people. Rachel shrugs Jesse's jacket off as the woman from the door – who sits a few rows in front – steals a glance at Jesse and promptly whispers something to the woman beside her. Rachel can't lip read from that far away, but she guesses it's along the lines of: What _does _she look like?

Rachel swears she hears Jesse exhale in disapproval at the women's wittering but Rachel dare not look at his face, so she fiddles with her fingers until instructed to be seated. They sit closer than they have in months and Rachel tries to ignore how heavily the woman beside her is breathing.

"We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of two great people." It's only now Rachel notices the two coffins in place of the usual sole occupant. She glances up at Jesse whose knuckles are turning white as he clenches his fists in silence. She doesn't know what possesses her to do so, but she faintly places one of her hands on top of his. He quickly moves his away and she's instantly crestfallen but he's only moved it away so that he can place his on top of hers. Being underneath felt needy, desperate and Jesse wants to be the protector, not the protected.

"As a close friend of the St. James', it is an _honour_ to be here today, committing their souls to the very earth they lived on. They contributed a great deal to all of our lives and their legacy will continue to live on in all those who will it to do so. Their contribution will continue in the hands of all us, including their son who we hope will, one day, will make his way back to us." It takes Rachel all of five minutes to realise they're talking about Jesse (mainly because there are more than a few whispers circulating around them, often coupled with subtle – or not so subtle – points in their direction.) A woman takes over at the stand and gives a far too long eulogy that really has no start or end. A male follows, telling a story of how proud they were when Jesse came into their lives. Jesse's teeth are gritted are his swallows are deep as he calls on every bone to restrain himself from saying something he'll regret. The man continues, telling of how he first met Jesse's dad back in high school and how they've remained close friends ever since. It's all a bit to twee to be true and the way Jesse rolls his eyes just confirms to Rachel that it's pretty much entirely fabricated. But eventually the service closes and the congregation makes its way outside.

"Oh Jesse, darling, it's been too long." By the look on Jesse's face, it hasn't been long enough. He remains silent as a woman – Maude – grabs his shoulders and kisses either cheek. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"I'm not," Jesse replies simply and stalks off closer to where people are communing beside the grave. Maude turns to Rachel, who attempts an apologetic smile but finds it increasingly difficult to sympathise with any of these people. A few are crying honest tears and look genuinely affecting by the St. James' deaths but most are here for appearance only and Maude is definitely one of them.

"We must let men grieve in their own ways," Maude instructs Rachel loftily before walking to join a circle of four women, all of whom instantly begin discussing the latest addition to their book club. And it turns out that whoever she is, she doesn't meet their standards. Rachel looks for Jesse and finds him being hugged tightly by a petite brunette, who's visibly shaking with tears. Jesse's holding her but is making no effort to whisper words of comfort. The woman, upon noticing Rachel approach them, tries to console herself and rejoins her husband, turning herself into his shoulder as she cries some more. The emotion bites at Rachel's eyes and although she's biased and she finds it hard to sympathise with his parents because it's clear they wanted nothing to do with Jesse, Rachel finds it incredibly sad that they'll now never have the chance to make amends.

The coffins are brought out, one after the other, and are lowered into the ground. Those here for the occasion stand as far from the graves as is socially acceptable and those touched more closely by the deaths look as if they'd quite like to throw themselves in the graves too. Each guest throws a single white lily in either grave and as Jesse's turn arrives, Rachel takes his hand into hers and they walk forwards together. A few tears escape from Jesse's eyes but he's not crying for his parents, or because he misses them. He's crying for himself, because he never had a chance to tell them exactly how he felt, tell them how they made him feel and now he never will. So he rips off his tie because it's far too tight as it is, throws it to the ground and walks off into the distance. The petite brunette who turns out to me Jesse's mother's sister sobs a little harder, whilst the group of book club women merely raise an eyebrow and mutter amongst themselves at how badly raised Jesse's become. A few men sigh disdainfully – they had hoped to bring Jesse round to the world of business, teach him his legacy but Jesse's too strong willed to be told which way to go. He'll decide for himself (he always has done, his parents couldn't have cared less.)

Rachel feels so incredibly angry, it drives her to tears and she turns on the spot and runs after Jesse, not caring that her shoes are getting covered in mud or her hair is getting windswept as she runs. She catches up with him and he sees the tears streaming down her face. She's angry because no-one understands Jesse (except her) and she's sad because although she's decided she didn't like them, two people have died, never to eat, breathe or live again and that's a sad concept in itself. Jesse surprises her because he smiles as she tries to stop her tears. It's the first time his face has looked like his own and though she knows it's wrong he's smiling at his parent's funeral, she's also kind of glad he's found something to smile about. He takes both his thumbs and smoothes them over the apples of her cheeks, catching the tears and evaporating them away. She lowers her head because try as she might, the emotion of the day has caught up with her and now she's opened the latch, the flood gates are about to come spilling open. He pulls her in to his chest and holds her tightly until her crying subsides and her breathing regulates. She spies a bench just over the road from the graveyard and tilts her head towards it. Jesse's powerless to stop her as she begins to pull them both across the road and they sit side by side and watch the rest of the funeral processions from a distance. He tells her who most of the people are and he watches as she wrinkles her nose in disgust at the majority of those mentioned. He tells her that her view is perhaps not totally reasonable given the only evidence she has to go on is his personal (and less than favourable) opinion. She retorts that she's a good judge of character and Jesse decides it's pointless to argue. And anyway, he'd much rather have someone here to point out all the flaws in these people he dislikes so strongly and with Rachel being such a perfectionist, it becomes something of a game to find the most flaws in each person. (She wins, but he lets her because there's so much she doesn't know about these people that goes further than an ugly faux fur coat.)

The minutes pass and somehow Jesse finds himself sat on a bench, in a graveyard, with Rachel Berry's head on his lap as she lies curled up on the wood. The final flowers have been thrown into the grave and one by one, the people are leaving and some have already forgotten whose funeral they've just attended. They live that type of a lifestyle whereby every occasion is a social invitation and then they wonder why Jesse doesn't want to be a part of it?

His hand has found its way to Rachel's head and is stroking her hair in a manner that seems to comfort them both. She's reluctant to move off of his lap because although she's protests (massively) otherwise, she's missed Jesse completely and it's been killing her that they never reached closure, never said goodbye. So she lets her eyes fall to sleep, with Jesse's hand in her hair because she's far too aware than when she wakes up, Jesse will be gone, just like his parents.

And he is.

She's left on the bench with only a piece of paper curled in her hands. It has only two words on it but the little gold star in the top left hand corner tells her it's from Jesse. She reads it as she walks away from the graveyard, finally able to put everything to do with anything St. James to rest (even if, in her dreams, she wouldn't be putting _him_ to rest; instead he'd walk right back and save her. But this is real life, not a fantasy and she knows that that simply cannot happen.) So as she reads the note once more, realising she doesn't need these words to remember Jesse by – she has the real thing stored away in her subconscious – she throws the piece of paper in the bin with the two words shining up at the sun, able to be read by all who pass by.

_Thank you._


End file.
